"Never mind him, he is only a Jew with some knowledge of his own language. Now would you partake of our humble hospitality, sir, since evidently you have travelled a long way to reach this poor, little place?"

Rutilius had not come to talk pleasantries, and leastwise to eat, so he declined immediately, with what he hoped was not rudeness.

“I have not come for refreshment, good sir, but to ask certain questions that I wish answered satisfactorily before I leave this country. Would you be the man to indulge me? I take it you are Eusebius Sophronius Hieronymus.”

The old man, his balded head and his spotty beard showing it was quite a long time growing, as it was wispy now and very white upon his chest, merely smiled. He said nothing at first. Then he extended his hand and took Rutilius’s arm gently, as an old man might his son.

“Please, I understand all that said by a young man such as yourself, but please indulge us elders notwithstanding! It is the custom of the ancient East to first take refreshments, and afterwards talk business, if that is what you wish to do. At least for a few moments of your time, do as the East does, or my Eastern friends will be most effronted. We shall not detain you any further after that. You may ask all the questions you like. you have encountered the weariness and tedium of much travel, I take it, so here are some little refreshments, which I am not in need of. You see, my friends would overly feed me at my age. They would spoil my body and starve my sprit! So I eat sparingly of such fine things--please you and your young friend are my guests today, sit and refresh yourselves! Sit down, children!”

Rutilius was taken aback by the man’s manner, which was so like a chiding father’s, it reminded him of his own lost father.

“Sir, really I—“

“Please sit, and when you have drunk a little and eaten something, then let us talk, as long as you like. I do think it will go much better then, if you feel you have a more strength and are less weary from your journey.”

Rutilius could not protest his hospitality, and sat down. Hyacinthus preferred to stand, being a servant, but Rutilius waved him down into the other chair, and his secretary sat down, though on the edge of it.

The young woman served them each a glass of wine, and they added water, and drank, and there was a little fruit and bread too.

But this was not the least of her ministrations. She came with a bowl of water and a towel, and Rutilius thought she was actually going to wash their feet as the custom was in households, but no, he was mistaken. Shocked, he watched the old man come and take the bowl and the towel and then begin to kneel down before Hyacinthus first.

Hyacinthus rose up away, but Rutilius shook his head, intending to let his servant be served in this way, but to go immediately if the scholar sought to do the same to him.

Just as he feared, when Hyacinthus’s feet had been bathed and dried with the towel, the scholar turned to Rutilius, who was determined to have nothing to do with this show of humility, or whatever it was.

“Nay, that is a servant’s work, not yours! What is the meaning of this?” he protested, backing away.

“What do you mean?” Eusebius replied, smiling. “My Lord and Savior thought it HIS duty to serve men, so am I to put myself in privilege and status above my master, when I am only his abject and wretched slave?”

Rutilius glanced at the older woman, then the young woman, for some kind of assurance this man had gone woefully mad in his dotage. But no, they too smiled at him as if he were spouting the greatest wisdom in the world.

The young woman piped up, her eyes glowing ecstatically. “It is so true, our Master came to serve, not to be served! He showed us by His own example, this is how we are to be, servants not rulers.”

Rutilius frowned. How like a woman to speak like that! All the high administrator and official in Rutilius could not bear the thought, but nevertheless the scholar was not going to be put off, he was kneeling now before Rutilius.

The scholar gazed up at Rutilius. “If I did not do you this service, I would have no part of my Master, just as he once said to the Apostle, Peter.”

“Oh, so he is indeed speaking of the Christus, for he mentioned his disciple’s name!” thought Rutilius, squirming on his chair.

Rutilius conquered his feelings, and relented. “Very well, since you insist, wash my feet, I wouldn’t wish to be the cause of your Master rejecting you!”

In the silence, there was little but the sound of the water in the bowl as Rutilius’s feet were each washed and then dried and his sandals replaced on his feet.

What an ordeal it was for Rutilius, he could not have expressed--but as a Roman he endured it without further protest.

Once that was done, the scholar rose, the bowl and towel taken away, and Rutilius was shown to the scholar’s own desk and given his seat there. The woman rose from her stool and stood a few feet away, watching them closely.

Eusebius returned, but did not sit.

Somewhat uncomfortable on the scholar's chair, Rutilius cleared his throat, then began. "I must ask you, sire, what you know of the Chris--"

He scarcely got these words out when he noticed the scholar was not listening, his eyes were closed and he was mumbling something. Was he praying?

Whether he was engaged in prayer or not, Rutilius was determined, and he chose to interrupt the scholar's prayers, if that were what he was doing.

"I wish to hear from you, sir, on some important questions, which I have come all this way to ask you!"

The scholar opened his eyes, and he smiled. "If you really desire to know, I will tell you the truth as I have learned it. But you must learn to sit and wait, my child--wait for me to begin at the proper time."

Rutilius was all for springing to his feet and stomping out of the man's presence, but he couldn't! He just couldn't! Only a child would act like that, and he wasn't going to let his offended Roman feelings dictate to him now that he might get some of his questions answered--which were questions burning hot in a distant emperor's troubled mind and heart.

Then the older woman stepped in, kneeling before the scholar.

"But, Father, how can you do this for him, a stranger, though a Roman like you and me and my daughter? What about the work, which is your sacred duty to God?"

The scholar patted her head, as if he viewed her too as a mere child.

"Oh, dear, dear Lady Paula! How silly, and female-minded you are becoming at your age! Lyddaeus can come again tomorrow with his exegesis for me to dispute with him, while tonight Bar Hanina will appear to ply me with more of his absurd Jewish fables, no doubt! Enough about these wretched Jews! And I will attend to my own work, Lady Paula! But as for this caller, I perceive he is not here of his own account! If he were, I would send him away at once, for the sake of the work that my Lord has put on my shoulders. But now I must tell him, the truth impells me to tell him all, for the sake of his inquiring master."

The woman lowered her eyes, rose, and went and stood with her daughter.

Rutilius was now excited, but showed nothing of it, for he knew he was in the presence of someone who either knew a lot, or was a great imposter if he didn't, deserving to be sent to the copper mines of Petraea and Pheneussus! In any case, he would know soon enough.

The desk was piled so high with manuscripts, that several now slipped down, and Rutilius caught one in his hand, while the others dropped to the floor. He glanced at it, catching the title, "De viris illustribus." He also noticed several names, which he recognized were authors defending the faith of followers of Christus.

"I see the name of Lucius Caecilius Firmianus Lactantitus, the one who wrote about the Phoenix bird that died in the flames and then was reborn from the ashes, as well as some tractates against the critics and enemies of the Christus. How do you come by this?"

The scholar took it from him and set it aside. "I lay claim to it without apology! It is my own work, and it is the truth, but why should you interest yourself in a mere fable of his, though it purports to describe the death and resurrection of my Lord Christus?"

"You are so right, sir, I am not come so far to enterain mere fables or indulge such writers, though I know of his other works. They are quite serious, particularly the one, "De Mortibus Persecutorum," describing many of our emperors, by name, Gaius, Domitianus, Decius, Valerianus, Maximianus, Galerius, and so on, rightly calling them monsters and beasts who have gained hellish flames as reward for their attacks on the followers of Christus! Surely, you do not align yourself with this fractious and impious author.

"Am I set on trial in my own humble residence?" the scholar remarked amiably, though there was a hint of asperity in his voice. This book I wrote describes the lives and works of one hundred and thirty five of our defenders of Christus. I should like to be included in their roll of martyrs, but so far my Lord has not counted me worthy of that highest honor. Many of them suffered severely from, ah, the authorities, for their brave stand for the truth. But you know that quite well, being so informed a man of Roma and a man of the world! You know full well how many a noble, good man of Roma (and there were many over time of that sort), how each suffered for his convictions at the hands of certain powerful, greedy, venal, bloody rulers whose names are all well known and uncontested. Need I name them? But it would be tedious to present the list. I wish to be at your business too, now that you have indulged me and my Easterners."

"Yes, I am so informed of those one hundred and thirty five, though I would not agree to their severe punishments! If they questioned the deity of the emperors and their acts, many reasonable Romans have done the same. I myself entertain absolutely no certain belief in the divinity of men, and serious question the gods' as well. Now if you authored this work, it is entirely within your right to write what you think best. May I take a copy of it away? My secretary here can make me a copy, if I have a few days time here in this place."

"Oh, by all means, make your copy. Make any copy you wish of whatever I have here in my library, whether by my pen or by any one else's! My books, my library, are open to all of a mind inquiring after the truth!"

The scholar waved his hand indicating the hundreds of books and manuscripts. But then his eyes grew more serious.

"But you haven't come here to copy my tedious books, have you? They're mostly all available in the libraries of Roma and Alexandria, and even quite a few in Antioch and Nova Roma--not that anyone in those places cares to read them! Now what do you wish to know about the Christus? Lactantius is of no substance, really. I am able to help you more than a little, I think, as I know the Hebrew and the Syriac and the Aramaic, as well my native Latin and also the Greek.

Rutilius stared at the scholar. Lactantius was of no substance? Rutilius wasn't so sure. He had dreamed several nights now of the Phoenix, consumed in flame, then rising up from its own ashes reborn and magnificent in its fiery red and gold plummage! He couldn't quite put the image away from his mind even now, when confronted with the acerbic, witty, incisive man of letters, this strange old priest and desert monk called Eusebius Hieronymus!

Just the same, he did put the Phoenix aside for the moment, and tackled the burning questions in Honorius's mind that he had carried all the way from Ravenna.

Honorius had questions that dealt with the whole of Christus' life and acts, so it took some time, as Rutilius went through the list, without once consulting notes of course, as his memory was perfect in every detail.

Christus' was born in Bethlehem? Exactly where? Was the place marked? Could it be seen and proven?

His connection with the royal line of David? Was it by his father or mother? Or were both from that line? How is it that the Jewish scriptures said there would be no issue from a male producing the Messiah, and that he would instead be the 'seed of a woman'?"

The scholar had an answer for him on each count, quoting the scripture, relating the names of the personages involved and the places and times. If he did not remember or was the least bit unsure of some point, he sent Lady Paula and her Eustochium to the particular manuscript, it was brought, and he showed Rutilius the answer in it, which the best authorities or the sacred scriptures of the Jews themselves testified.

But that happened rarely, that he did not recall anything. His mind was amazing quick and accurate, with vast learning that astonished Rutilius as he rattled off names of authors, and quoted from them out of their books in rapid-fire Greek and Latin, and Aramaic and also Syriac, and even Hebrew--though in Hebrew he spoke more carefully, pronouncing the words as one who had been taught them more lately than the other sources.

He laughed after quoting a lengthly Hebrew passage to Rutilius, and translating the meaning. "The Hebrew has corrupted my Latin and Greek, that is the price I pay for studying it and becoming a master of it! Hebrew, you must know, is the original tongue, the mother of all languages, but surely that is all I can credit it--as Latin and Greek are greater than their mother, incomparably so!"

After hearing so many proofs of Eusebius's truly immense erudition and scholarship, Rutilius was by no means inclined to dispute the peppery scholar's contention about Hebrew. He had larger questions in mind than a scholar's vanity and reputation and his views on Hebrew vs. Greek and Latin.

So he pressed on, planning to make the most of this opportunity, and get to the real heart of his quest: the resurrection of Christus! If the resurrection were not true, all the prophecies in the old scriptures of the Jews were of no account, nor their seeming fulfilment in the birth and acts of Christus. If he did not rise back to life again like the Phoenix, if that were a fable, then all this was about his divinity was nonsense, the worst kind of claptrap!

But embarking on so momentous a topic was a delicate thing, nevertheless, he felt. Even as a Roman speaking to another Roman, sometimes practicality was not the best sail to go with when launching a ship. Too strong a wind might taken them right into a seawall, and too light a wind might let them remain harbor-bound. How best he approach this sensitive, tangled knot of a subject?

He thought of the many emperors who since Augustus Octavianus had claimed deity or been awarded it by the Senate, posthumously. No deified emperor, self-proclaimed or Senate-proclaimed, had ever been known to rise from the dead. And who would want any of them back, however well they had ruled? What purpose or good would it serve if one rose from the dead? There was usually a new emperor sitting within hours or days of the last emperor's demise. How would he take it if his predecessor reappeared to take back the throne death had taken from him?

Surely, it would be a disaster for all. Civil war would ensue, as somebody, whether the emperor recently enthroned, or a military commander elsewhere in the empire, would dispute the returned emperor's resurrection, and say that it was merely a usurper looking and dressing like the one that had died. Surely, blood would be spilled from one end of the empire to the other as the returned emperor's claim was contested.

Of a truth, it would be monstrous if a deified emperor returned from the dead. But how was Christus any different, even if had accomplished what his followers all claimed?

First, however, he must inquire, he felt, into the veracity of the claim. How true, how soundly evidenced or not was the claim?

Secondly, what good would it serve if true and evidenced?

Thirdly, what did Christus's resurrection portend for the Empire?

Unity or disastrous division that would plunge an entire empire into a bloodbath and barbarous anarchy?

Such were the two horns of a monstrous, raging Minotaur that Constantinus, like Theseus, had grappled with all during his reign and called church councils at Nicaea and elsewhere to resolve.

It did not help that Arianism was not going away, it was threatening to engulf both Empires, both from within through the bishopric and and without through the Arianized barbarians. Though branded as heretics by Constantinus and various councils, the Arians, called so after their leader, Bishop Arius, maintained that Christus was not divine, or co-equal and one with the Father and the Holy Spirit. The Eastern branches of the Church and the society and govenment were riddled with Arians, and they were spreading fast into the Western Empire, as so many barbarians subscribed to Arianism. Any Western Emperor must deal with this question or allow the state to be divided and his realm to break up in endless division and fighting of Orthodox and Arian factions.

Fourthly, where was the living Christus now? Why wasn't he ruling from either of the two Romas or Ravenna or at least from the former Jewish capital of Jerusalem, renamed Aelia Capitolina by Hadrianus using one of his own names?

Having observed and learned the lessons from his father's experience and handling of things, he knew he did not have to be an administrative genius to cut many a Gordian knot. His father had a wonderful ability to see through tangles of complex things to the heart of a matter, then pluck out the one thing needful or of value, however he could do it the easiest and quickest.

His father was like Alexander the Great in that trait. Alexander showed the world it did not take the world's greatest genius, no, just a sword and the will of a man of action, to resolve the seemingly impossible knot he found on a visit to Gordium, a city in Asia. After examining it for a few moments in the temple where the knot was kept on permanent display, he drew his sword and cut it in two instead of trying like everyone before him to untie it with their fingers and their wits.

Rutilius knew that famed story well enough, but he was a man of many known resources, too, and he knew where to seek out excellent help and scholarship. He himself could resort to a whole library of books that he carried effortlessly in his head--thanks to his inexhaustible memory and recall of the least thing he had read. But he knew all his information was not the answer, he needed the wisdom and guidance of renowned and proven authorities who could make the best judgments concerning the evidence. These lights were invaluable, and one light alone was not enough usually to illumine so vast a number of questions and matters involved with Christus. Who could draw all these things together and make the best judgment on them? It was wise to go to a number of luminaries, and then view them collectively, and as iron sharpens iron, so they would sharpen their conclusions and hone them to a single point where there would no longer be any viable question remaining as to Christus--the absolute truth about the man would be laid bare.

This was Rutilius's belief and rationale, and he had never known it to fail. Why should it fail him now? It had governed all his administration for the imperial power for years now, and his father before him had followed the same rule with great success.

So he was unshakable in his optimistic outlook. He would find the answer for the seeking, troubled, young Honorius, beset on all sides by Arians and Orthodox parties, who was obviously needing a rock of certitude on which to set his policy of state regarding Christus for the present and the future.

He had no doubt about this could be resolved, and soon too!

He remained seated, and the officer bowed low, then proceeded to read out the message from the wax tablet he held.

"Greetings to Governor and Proconsul Rutilius Numantianus from Fulvia--"

The moment Lady Fulvia's name was out of the courier's mouth, Rutilius silenced him with a wave of his hand, then drew him aside. "I will take the message privately!" he told him.

Rutilius turned to the others in the chamber who were staring at him in the interuption.

"I am afraid I must take a message in private, and so I beg your pardon, Eusebius Hieronymous, for this interruption. Please allow me a private chamber if there is one hereabouts."

"Certainly, you may have my bedchamber, it is apart from this chamber and sufficient for your privacy. And since the light of the sun might become too much pleasure for me, there are no windows, and thus no opportunity for a busybody little town full of peeping eyes and listening ears. You see, I prefer the amenities of a troglodyte and bond-slave to Christus to the luxuries and indolence of a Roman prince!"

"And I suppose he means me!" Rutilius thought.

Rutilius and the officer were then shown the chamber by Lady Paula and her daughter, and found it as described--a true, self-denying troglodyte's, with no more than a rug on a stone bench for his bed mattress, a single lamp for light, a pair of slippers for the chill of the floor, a single thin blanket of felt, an earthware jug of water with a little vinegar in it to dispell the local contagions--and they were left alone.

The officer handed him the waxed tablet, and Rutilius turned his back to him so he could not witness any emotion he might betray in the reading of her words.

"My friend and benefactor, it has been too long a time since I last received any word of you or your whereabouts, but I have entrusted your care to the Almighty God, and so I am not afraid for you-- however dangerous the times and the places you are visiting. Sir, there is a greater matter on my heart, which I must write to you about. There was until his recent decease a certain official and then a great bishop in in the north of Italia, Ambrose by name, whom you would have learned much from. In your circles, he was well known, so I will say no more, except that he was most wise and well versed in the ways of the Almighty, and on your return would you seek out his library, if it is still held by his basilica, for in it you would find the scriptures and books that would aid you much in your quest for the truth about our faith. I feel sure his library would afford answers to the questions you might have, and I have one too, which I ask your forebearance to inquire into. I will not hazard my question in this letter, as I wish to find you well first and on your way home to Italia. Conditions here in Italia, north to south, are much worsened since your departure. We have lost many cantons to the barbarians, and Gallia Narbonensis is nearly all consumed by them. Is Hispania and Africa next to be attacked? Pretenders to the throne, which Honorius has had to deal with however he is able--military slackness on the borders which are daily shrinking, barbarians growing ever more insolent and belligerent and demanding of our remaining gold. Of course you know about such things. Roma's people live in terror that nothing will stop the barbarian advance and they will be attacked and the city burnt and leveled. But my question to you, before mine is given you concerning my own concern to Ambrose, is how will you fare, sir, if the power of Honorius's should completely fail us? Please look to your own interests, for the interests of the state are fast declining. Many will go down with the too youthful Honorius, if he is unable to control the barbarians and the various pretenders and usurpers--but why should you be among them? You have done more than your duty to Roma and the state. And You did my husband and I such kindness I am your servant always."

His hand was shaking unaccountably when he finished reading, but he grabbed it with the other and, clenching the letter, he turned and gave the courier his brief response to Lady Fulvia after the Lady Fulvia's letter was erased and he and took up an iron pointed stylus.

"Greetings to the Lady Fulvia from a town in Judaea of Syria Major. I am engaged in discussion with a well-known scholar here, and not quite finished. But soon I shall be, and will be on my way to Caesarea. Please send your letter with your question there, and I shall receive it at the Prefect's. I shall seek out those books and papers you refer to on my return. Best of health to you and your friends. I have little to report as yet, to my emperor, except that the military situation here is quiet and pacific at present, and he need not fear any major incursions from the East at the moment from the Arsacidics, as they are involved in dynastic quarrels at the present time. I say this to you, so that you and the people of Italia may rest on this assurance of mine that the Eastern limes are still the best bulwark we have remaining, and the Empire is strongest here and will remain so for a long time to come. Farewell, Rutilius--" "Is that all, Governor?" the officer said after slipping the tablet into his portfolio for safekeeping. Rutilius nodded, then thought and said, "But take special care on the way back, there are going to be many hazards."

The officer's eyebrows lifted a bit, but he nodded, and being discharged, he hurried off to his mount and his soldier escort, while Rutilius remained in the scholar's bed-chamber (though it was so rude a place, it scarcely could be taken for the abode of a human being).

He had to gather his thoughts for a moment without people staring at him. His emotions were playing wild with them, since this was not entirely a diplomatic message--it was, after all, sent by a beautiful woman who was now a widow but could do as she pleased. He too was a man, and not immune to the suggestions that might be contained in a brief word or phrase in the letter. He played it back in his mind, and thought his impression was only strengthened, that Lady Fulvia had conceived than a fondness or gratitude for him for past service. He sensed there was more to it... but how should he respond? His own heart, he knew little of it, being so buried in administrative duties as an envoy would be.

No, he decided, he had no time or opportunity to pursue that line of thought. Best return to the demands of the present situation! He thought how helpful this courier would be to him now. By naming Caesarea as his next place of call, he would further put off his enemies, as they would be forced to divide and plant people both at Caesarea and Aelia Capitolina and anywhere they could along those land routes. Also, he did not intend to even go to Caesarea, and would write Lady Fulvia again, and give her more accurate particulars, so that she could respond and entrust him with her burning question.

That was as it should be handled, he thought, as he left the bed-chamber and returned to the scholar in his public receiving chamber.

Let his enemies, Rutilius thought, if they intercept the courier, read how he was mostly all concerned with the military readiness of the East, and was not alarmed about anything there--which would be cause for them to assume that was Honorius's chief concern in sending him out there in the first place! They had no need to know Honorius was deeply troubled in a spiritual matter, particularly over Christus. That would give them a weapon to use against Honorius, and he would not be so unwise as to afford them the least advantage!

He had just rejoined the scholar and seated himself, when the strangest impression overwhelmed him. Is was if time had stopped, and he felt the whole earth move, not in place, but into a higher dimension. He looked about, and saw Eusebius and his female assistants were not even looking at him, they were busy with something having to do with a particular set of manuscripts brought out in a lidded basket.

What was he feeling? It was so strange he could not identify it. But the chamber seemed to be more than what he could humanly perceive, only a kind of deliciously soothing had dropped down into his innermost being--and he felt that he could not even rise from his chair, even if he had tried.

What is this place really? he wondered, gazing about. Why am I feeling this extraordinary way? It is wonderful, but what may it be or portend?

Almost beside himself, he wanted to ask Eusebius at once about it, but was hesitant, for would he think him a fool or a child?

Yes he must find out something! He was feeling as if he had been transported into a visionary existence like Plato had oftentimes described.

He heard his voice, and it too was not quite his own, asking Eusebius, "Sir, what is this cave? What do you know about it?"

Eusebius broke off his instructions to the women as to how to categorize the contents of the big basket of manuscripts, and smiled.

"I was wondering when you would get around to asking that. When I found this place, I had great trouble to clear out the offal and dung of my humble predecessors! You see, it was a sheep stable for long years into the past. Who knows how long? It is ancient, like all such places. The shepherds and their flocks come and go, and so nobody knows when it was first occupied by them. But now it is my study and home and library! I am quite pleased with it too. Nobody would want to dispossess me of it, or charge me high rent! They all feel sorry for me, in the town, in fact. How mistaken they are! It is a lovely place to me...besides..." Rutilius had been listening, half in disbelief all the while until he added "besides" and then he knew he was on to something of substance.

"Yes, sir, go on, what more is there to it?"

The women exchanged glances and shook their heads as if they did not share their scholar-priest's views at all on this point, but respected him enough not to say so, at least in his presence with a stranger visiting him.

Rutilius's head swam, as if he was in a state of shock from suddenly plunging into a very cold bath after just out of the very hottest one. He stared at Eusebius, slowly nodding. "Yes, I have felt something, so I am not quite a dead donkey, as you describe the insensible. But is it true? How do you know?"

Eusebius gave him a not so saintly, annoyed look now as he might give a bothersome fly. He waved his hand, and sent the women away with the basket. "Enough, I'll attend to those items later," he said as they went away. Then he turned back to Rutilius, his eyes locked on Rutilius's eyes, and with an expression of utmost gravity.

"The Supreme Master and Sovereign of the universe was indeed birthed here in human flesh!-- and you ask how I know? I know nothing except that the place shouts the fact at me every moment, every day I abide here by the grace of God, sir! Queen Helena listened to the wrong people, that's all. They did not know this town well--being foreign to the land, and trusting too much in certain authors, whom I have disputed and proven wrong in their conclusions. So they fixed on the wrong place, by two hundred or so paces. Is that so very important now, Governor? In time her edifice may well grow and enclose this site, if it comes out that my view prevails and is vindicated, that this is the true site--which I believe will happen in God's good time. Now enough of this quibble, I have no more time to spare on it.

Now what are your questions, or question, that I might answer you from the perfect and correct texts I have identified and studied and translated, that you and I too may go about our respective business?"

He was now interested, as he had never met anyone quite like Egeria, the moment he laid eyes on her. In turn, she was taken equally with both Rutilius and Eusebius, and seemed delighted to meet both a scholar of the first rank and a Roman governor, as bar-Tratta introduced them to her. Seated with Rutilius in an adjoining chair while her companions stood (for there were not chairs enough), Eusebius called for more refreshments to be brought. But of course there was not sufficient on hand, as Lady Paula informed him, so she and her daughter hurried out to the market fetch what was needed for their many guests.

"Tell me, madam, about your journey to Megiddo and your reason for it, and I will see if the new church there warrants inclusion in my map," said Eusebius, getting to the matter at hand directly as he was wont to do. After all, he had many pressing scholarly tasks and inquiries on his mind to yet accomplish that day--once his guests were disposed of!

Egeria rose, then bowed deeply to Eusebius. "I am not worthy to be seated before you, sir! I have heard much good report of you in my own far country, and so I count myself an unworthy person at your doorstep. My friends too who have graciously accompanied me, they too feel the same. Prudentius here has a fine song for you and the churches that you might well want to hear sung. It upholds the full divinity of Christus, which I know is an belief dear to your heart."

"Oh, that is certainly true! I should like to hear some singing then about it! Do sing it for me."

Suddenly, the interlocking chambers of the cave resounded and echoed with Prudentius's song, the words of which expressed his full, unwavering belief in the divinity of Christus.

"Of the Father's love begotten,

ere the worlds began to be,

He is Alpa and Omega,

He is the source, the ending He;

Of the things that are, that have been,

and that future years shall see,

evermore and evermore.

O ye heights of heaven, adore Him;

angel hosts, His praises sing;

powers, dominijons, bow before Him,

extol our God and King;

let no tongue on earth be silent,

every voice in concert ring,

everymore and evermore.

Christ, to Thee with God the Father,

and, O Holy Ghost, to Thee,

Hymn and chant and high thansgiving,

and unwearied praises be;

honor, glory, and dominion,

and eternal victory,

evermore and evermore."

"Come, come, is that all you've come this far, just to charm my ears with a nice song that avoids the dryness of my theology though it says the same things?" he chided her.

"But let us get down to the true threshhold of our communion. Daughter, we are all unworthy bond-slaves of the Lord--and equal to one another in that station. Your own estate is not lower than mine--I should rather be washing your feet and the feet your companions, for I am a mere scribbler of texts that nobody reads or wants to read, they are counted so detestable in the high places of Roma!"

Egeria shook her head vigorously, and as a rather stout woman she had a mass of hair to shake as well. The gold-threaded hairnet that held it all in place could not do it, and large locks escaped on both sides of her smiling, broad face.

"That is hard to believe, sir! You take far too low account of yourself, as everywhere I go I hear such praises of your work in all manner of worthy subjects. I can tell you of the Megiddo church later. Tell me, how along are you in the translations and the compilation of the Hebrew scriptures as you transcribe them into our mother tongue?"

Eusebius's eyes were keenly observing her now since she spoke of his chief interests (the Holy Land map being secondary), and he took her hand and led her and her friends over to his writing table, and was quickly showing them exactly where he was in the huge task when he must of recalled his other guest and glanced toward Rutilius.

He paused while showing Egeria and her friends more of his present labors and extended his hand to Rutilius. "But I am getting very forgetful in my old age! This fine fellow here, Lady Egeria, is a fine prince of the realm, come here on business for his estates in Gallia, and has honored me with his presence here today. Sister Egeria, and you too Aurelius Clemens Prudentius, do talk to him as well before you leave from here. Are you planning to stay, for I have lodgings in this town for you, Prudentius and the other men at the monks' house and the attached several houses for sisters that are open to shelter you and your sisters in the Lord?"

At the mention of Rutilius, Egeria turned back to him, and smiling, bowed. "I am not here on my own account, sir. I have come to view the places the Lord frequented, and that are the very places where he was born, lived, and was crucified. I have many friends in my native province who are waiting to hear my reports from this wondrous land. Would you also be visiting here for the same purpose, even if you serve some business interest of yours? If so, perhaps I and my campanions can be of help to you. We have been many places already concerning the Lord, and can give you advice on them, and any other particulars you care to know."

Rutilius inclined his head to her. Though he was not going to tell her or anyone the reason for his traveling in Palaestina, he was certainly able to act the role of a businessman inclined to look about the country for whatever interest it afforded.

"You are kind to offer this assistance to make my visit more pleasant. I and my secretary have journeyed alone for quite a long ways now, but we possibly have some use for the information you might have. Can you tell me--"

While Eusebius busied himself with his manuscripts and Lady Paula and her daughter served the other guests refreshments, Rutilius and Egeria talked, while Hyacinthus took notes of her travel advice and what she had learned along the way.

He mentioned a possiblility of viewing the crucifixion site. "What?" she exclaimed. "That is where we are going next! Would you be likely to leave in a day or so, when we will be going there directly? First, however, I must rest a bit here and see the Church of the Nativity and other things of great interest here. This after all is the glorious birthplace of our Lord! Are you a believer in Him, sir?"

Rutilius bowed. "I cannot say I am, but I am here to inquire about him, as I was doing with our host when you were announced. Would you like to join with me in my interview, or would you rather choose to meet with him separately?"

Egeria looked to her companions, and they commented to each, and then she turned back to him. "We would be honored, and accept your invitation. Perhaps I shall learn even more, as you will have questions perhaps I had not thought of."

Rutilius had thought she would decline his invitation. He did some quick thinking. Now she would be able to report on his questions to the scholar. Would she share them with the wrong people? He had preferred as much confidentiality as possible, and now that seemed to be out of the question. If only he had not invited her out of courtesty! But now the die was cast, he must accept her presence and her friends too. But would he learn what he wished to know, or was his whole purpose here spoiled? He knew it would soon be revealed, one way or the other.

But when they turned to Eusebius, he was gone! He retired to his chamber, Lady Paula informed them all, as it was time for his prayers and flagellations--for he customarily beat himself with a length of wet rope during his prayers, in order to help keep the lusts of his mortal flesh under subjection to his spirit. There was no set time for his return, but in the morning, very early, he would appear again in the writing room if they wished to inquire of him again.

Rutilius was profoundly disappointed. "Oh, the vagaries of a holy man's life--he should have known there would delays such as this! But what were they to do in the meantime? The scholar-priest's prayers might take some considerable time, as he had responsibility for many things, including a monasters and sisters' houses and various charities too, and, sensing his enemies were not too far removed from him, Rutilius felt he needed to be going soon if possible. To be held in a place like this too long, it was to give his enemies too much time to track him down and cause him yet more mischief.

He had a question for Egeria, however. "I thank you for your own gracious invitation," he told her. "But would you do me a service, madam? Inform our host that I will be touring the city while he prays, and then return in an hour or two or, if not, then the following morrrow?"

"Oh, sir, allow me to attend you! My companions would all like to do the same of course. While we are touring, we can continue to talk of our respective journeys in life and in this land. I would very much like to know how you came to take an interest in our Lord."

Rutilius realized now this sociable a creature was not going to be put off easily. What was he to do? He had no real interest in the other sites the miserable little Jewish town afforded, as she evidently did. But he was not going to be loitering in one place either, so he said, "Perhaps you can show me what sites there are that speak of your Lord, as I know nothing of these Judean hills."

Egeria beamed. "Oh, that would be my delight, Governor! For in coming here we stopped at a number already. But first I must leave a word for our host that we are going out and will return."

She spoke to Lady Paula, who nodded, and they were free to go, as Lady Paul informed her that the old scholar might not be open to further interviewing that day, so it was just as well they do as they wished in the town so as not to waste their time. If they required lodgings, they could go to the monastery that Eusebius had founded. The priests could reside there, and the Governor too with his secretary, and Lady Egeria and her women could retire to the sisters' houses that were attached.

They had just stepped outside, all together with the overly friendly, ubiquitous guide, bar-Tratta, when Egeria peered at Rutilius, then slapped her cheek with her hand. "Of course! I just now recalled your name is one I read, in the annals of Roma, in Tacitus! Are you not of the same lineage as Publius Rutilius--?"

Rutilius could have laughed, but checked himself. She certainly was well read for a woman! Yes, of course, he was! But the incident referred to was not generally understood, for Tacitus did not give minute particulars of the case, only mentioned him in reference to a petition made by the city of Massilia regarding an exile seeking sanctuary there, whom they wished to extend citizenship and haven to, while citing to the Emperor Tiberius the previous case as a precedent for imperial clemency, Publius Rutilius from Massilia, who had been exiled from Roma, but who was then accepted and given citizenship by the people of Smyrna, in the province of Asia, since he was accounted by them a notable man and wealthy too.

"Yes," he told her, "your memory serves you well. But the Annals of Tacitus are not going to tell you what the issue was in his case. I can tell you more. He was wrongly accused, and exiled from Roma by political opponents in a trifling matter, and therefore the citizens of Smyrna gave him safe haven, recognizing the unjustness of his exile. Was it all right for Massilia to give safe haven to yet another worthy man, who was exiled for offenses that were equally questionable? So Tiberius was petitioned."

"Oh, it wouldn't be of any wonder to me--if the man were innocent and were sent away due to vicious calumny spread by his enemies. We Christians were treated so frequently they cannot be numbered, and only since Constantinus have we enjoyed full protection of the state, the same protection afforded to others. So I give you my condolences, that your ancestor should have been mistreated in like manner as we have been in the past."

That was well said, Rutilius thought. His respect for her grew. He then added some details. "I personally was in charge of the imperial Archives and investigated the case of my ancestor Publius Rutilius and found that the charges were completely spurious, which were thrown out by succeeding judges who were questioned on the petition for his reinstatement to full citizenship and his rights and privileges in Roma and Massilia. I can assure you he was innocent, and suffered a great deal. We of the line of Numantianii have enjoyed advancement for the most part in Roma's imperial courts and governance, but now and then jealous men have charged one or more of us with venality and corruption and even conspiracy against the state--all untrue, as we have sufficient wealth of our own to satisfy us, so bribes can play little part in our administration. Publius Rutilius, my namesake, was not able to overcome the charges, due to immense bribes given the senators judging his case, and since he would not sink to giving bribes himself, he was condemned, unjustly, and exiled. But all that has been made known, so that there remains Tacitus's comment in his Annals, and that, as I have said, is given obliquely and not for its own sake. I only wish I could edit his volume and give posterity the whole account of it, so that the future generations can know the truth about my honorable ancestor, just as I have related it to you."

As they were talking, they were entering the public streets of the little town, and Egeria stopped.

"Now what will we see next here? If you have no objection, Governor--"

But Rutilius's attention was distracted. Hyacinthus had also touched Rutilius's shoulder, to alert him to something. And Rutilius saw what it was. There were far too many armed men in the street, not Romans, nor were they common villagers, as they were strangely garbed for Easterners but showed they were well armed with swords.

Whose men were they? And why were they there? Where they soldiers of fortune out to rob him? It did not look good, and they were blocking their way.

Egeria, however, either pretended she did not notice the armed men or was attempting to appear unafraid. For she continued walking, drawing Rutilius and Hyacinthus and her friends with her--straight into the lion's jaws, so it seemed!

When it seemed as if they would collide in another moment, and they all be put to the sword (though Rutilius had drawn his sword and was going to fight for his life), Egeria raised her hands with her full sleeves waving and rushed at them, chanting something at the top of her voice.

Astounded, the armed men all froze, and seemed to turn to statues--and the next moment was just as incredible, Egeria, followed by Rutilius and Hyacinthus, and Egeria's train of men and women, were free to walk right through the cordon of armed men blocking their path.

When she stopped and they all turned round, Rutilius saw the armed men had melted away, perhaps shamed by a woman and no longer possessing the spirit to attack them in that place.

Anyway, they were gone! And then Egeria turned to Rutilius, her eyes shining with humor. "What on earth did you say to them?" he said.

"Oh, I just use a holy prayer given me for protection, calling on the angels of God to make a way through the midst of my enemies-- and you see the result!--I have used it quite a number of times on my long journey--and the Lord is always faithful to protect us, as you can see!"

She continued walking, and Rutilius accompanied her, utterly amazed. "Was she a sorceress, or truly a follower of a god so powerful he could freeze armed men in their tracks? Was Christus really that powerful, though he was not even present on earth, according to their scriptures, having "ascended to heaven" after his resurrection? What proofs could she furnish that he was indeed alive and powerful, a divinity with great powers?

He called to her to stop.

She turned to him, and he was able to ask her his burning question.

"As long as I am in Roman territory, I have the authority to command those soldiers there, though I wonder if they would obey my authority without any of my own bodyguard present. Without such authority, how did you get the courage to confront them like that?"

She looked at him without speaking for a long moment, then she replied, "Because my Lord commands a greater kingdom than Roma's and yours, and he alone conquered the grave! Now there is nothing really to fear--Death and its power over us have been conquered by my Lord!"

Her words struck him like a thunderbolt. He was so stunned, he stood there, not realizing for a moment that she had left him and was again walking up the street, her friends quickly following.

He followed too with Hyacinthus, reflecting how she had spoken with such conviction, and evidently had no fear of assailants, known or unknown. With no fear, she could go anywhere, and not even bother to disguise herself. Could he say the same for himself, that he was as fearless as Lady Egeria? He had often resorted to subterfuge and disguise, had he not?

Somewhat wounded in his pride, he continued to tour the sites Lady Egeria selected, and he paid her a great deal more respect, listening to what she had to say, and seeing to it that Hyacinthus copied every word exactly. Later on, he thought, he would study her words most carefully and give them much reflection. He might well share them with the Emperor. After all, he hadn't gotten much from Eusebius Hieronymous and Lady Egeria seemed just as much an authority on Christus as a genuine believer in Him as the scholar was with all his books and learning and ascetic piety.

She looked up at him, waiting when he approached her.

"Lady Egeria, what were you chanting back there. I did not catch the words, they seemed to be a language unknown to me. And I know many languages, so that is surprising to me."

"Then I will have to interpret them to you, Governor, for it was a heavenly language. I didn't make up the words myself, the Spirit of God imparted them to me to deal with those men. Wait a moment, sir, as I ask the Lord for the interpretation."

She turned to her women, spoke a few words privately with them, and one of the women stepped forward, Lady Egeria holding her hand.

"I see the interpretation has already been given to another. My dear friend here, Clementia, will give it, if you wish."

He nodded, and she stepped forward, her head bowed, and said,

"Powers of darkness, begone! You are bound, with the bonds of the Lord Christus, so submit at the foot of his cross, where all powers, of death and hell and Satan were defeated! And do no harm to this man nor his servant nor the lady and her companions!"

"You mean, he did not reside always in the stable in the cave?"

"No, his parents brought him to this house, as the accounts I have surveyed have all indicated. I am surprised Vespasianus and Titus, with Flavius Alexander acting for Titus as his chief commander in the seige of Jerusalem, left it standing. They have destroyed so many holy sites during the reigns of Hadrianus, Trianus, Julian the Apostate, and others like them! But perhaps this obscure little town has shielded it from the attention given sites in the bigger places."

As she was already seeking to enter the house, Rutilius went with her, and they found an old couple far advanced in age residing there, who were nevertheless happy to conduct their unexpected visitors through the two rooms of the little house.

It was nothing more than a place where the poorest of society dwelt, Rutilius observed. How could the Lord God allow his Son to reside in such a place as this?"

Egeria seemed to discern his thoughts. She said to him, "You may think this a mean hovel, unfit for a glorious Messiah and Christus, Governor. But he was born in a stable, which is a type of our human hearts, and as Immanuel, his name, thought it not beneath him to reside in human flesh, he also sought to share our human condition, even the poverty of the poor and oppressed. Praise to him!"

Rutilius felt checked, even humbled, by her remarks. No Roman Emperor or ruler would ever do this, demean his glory as to share the human condition of poor, abject people under their rule. Why should Christus do such a thing?"

He asked her.

He was told, "As I said, his name is Immanuel, announced at his birth, which means, 'God with us.' God sent His Son to become one of us, to share our common woes and infirmities, so that he could be our High Priest in heavenly places, and, not only that, know and feel our inmost thoughts and feelings in our hearts and minds and our frail flesh, so that he might officiate before the Majesty of the heavenly Father as our most powerful intercessor."

Rutilius's head was spinning. What god of Roma and Grecia would do such things? It was all unthinkable. But Christus evidently had done much of what Egeria described.

He was staggered by the very thought. What was God if he stooped to the very level of humanity like this, and not only that, submitted to a Roman stake and suffered agonies and died for mankind? Beside such a God, such an Immanuel and Christus, the gods of Roma and Grecia and this God of the Christians were total opposites! They held contempt for common people--and would never come down to their level.

How could he be sure there existed such a God as this? His people, his ancient progenitors, knew nothing about such a God. Their gods--his gods still--did not read men's inmost thoughts, and so they were free to think what they liked, feel what they liked, about the gods, while offering them gifts at the Temple and engaging in the various rituals in order to get the gods' favor for a certain advantage sought. But if there existed this God who saw into human hearts, sought to even reign there as Lord, everything was turned upside down! Everything!"

Truly, it was too much for a man to grasp in only a few moments. He leaned against the door lintel, unaware of the world around, he was so overwhelmed by the magnitude of these revelations--if that was what they were-- concerning Deity, namely Christus the Son and his Heavenly Father.

He grew aware, however, that voices were calling to him to return to the world of sense.

He struggled to regain mastery of his thoughts and feelings, though cast in such disarray he wondered if he had gone mad.

It was Lady Egeria speaking to him. "Governor, if you have had sufficient time here to meditate on the presence of the Lord so strong in this house--" Then it struck him. The "Presence of the Lord-- so strong in this house"? Yes! That was it. He felt the same here as he had in Eusebius's quarters, back in the cave he had made his home and scholarly study. Yet when he recognized this, something in him fought back. It refused to be mastered so easily. He summoned all his will and tore himself away from the place--and only when he was outside, with Hyacinthus by his side, did he feel he was free--or at least free of the overwhelming sense of Christus's presence. Not that it was odious or a terrible thing--it was just too strong for him to maintain his Roman balance and control, and so he fought it as fiercely as he would a barbarian attacking him.

Egeria and her party, seeing that he was now in the street, continued the tour of the city and its places held sacred to Christus.

But afterwards, when he thought about it, he could not recall what they were exactly. He had the vaguest recollections of various places and things she showed him and spoke to him about-- for nothing really mattered to him after feiueling the presence of Christus in the cave-dwelling of Eusebius and shortly afterwards, the house where the child Christus had resided for a year or so before the family removed to Nazareth in Galilee.

While viewing the last site of the tour for that day, Lady Egeria turned to him.

"I hope we have been of some small service to you this day, Governor! Would you be stopping here in the town? We have been offered quarters at the houses attached to the monastery, and as for the monks, they will gladly give you a good chamber there, the best they have for their guests. It is late in the day, would you consider doing them the honor of abiding with them tonight? You may stay as long as you wish too. I know that our host is most hospitable and what he has is yours."

Rutilius glanced at Hyacinthus, and thought quickly, but was resolved not to remain if he might still make Aelia Capitolena by nightfall. It lay, after all, only five miles distant.

He smiled and shook his head. "I must decline, for I am anxious to reach Aelia Capitolena by tonight, Lady Egeria. I had some other questions for the holy man--"

"Oh?" Egeria interposed. "And what might they be? I can ask him for you--and send his reply by courier."

Rutilius wondered for a moment if he ought to entrust his question to a woman, whom was unknown to him before this day, but she had proven her character in the confrontation with their would-be assailants, had she not?

"You may ask him one thing for me. Did Christus rise from the grave by his power. So far, I have seen, and felt, provocative things. But proofs? I still must have proof to believe that he is whom his followers say he is."

Egeria studied him for a moment, then inclined her head to him and walked away, her companions following her.

Rutilius stood watching her go, and thought how on this one thing everything was hinged. The door swung open so far to the favorable regarding Christus, but he must not be overly swayed by his personal feelings and the influences of the particular sites frequented by Christus in his natal city-- but if there had been no resurrection, if there was no certain proof available, then the whole edifice of belief in Christus fell apart and collapsed. And for those proofs, he thought no better place to go than Aelia Capitolena, where Christus had died and, reputedly, rose from the dead.

Rutilius looked around with distaste at the dismal, poor streets and dwellings, and the mostly barren hillocks that rose round the little, unwalled town, with evident relief, "Let us go hire horses," he said to Hyacinthus. "We must make good time, as it is soon growing dusk in these wretched hills and I do not wish to spend the night here."

Hyacinthus hurried away to the nearest stables where there might be horses.

And Rutilius had good reason not to tarry there, he thought, keeping a keen eye out on the occasional passer-by. He had not yet identified his would-be assailants. Whoever had sent them to detain him, or even attack him, might well be known by the Praetorian Guard commander of Aelia Capitolena. Surely, he would be in receipt of information about such a large band. There had to be forty, maybe fifty fully-armed soldiers. They looked to be Thracians, or Germans, being so tall and fair of skin, and long of head. Of course, the legions employed German auxiliaries by the hunreds and thousands, but he sensed these were not of that sort, they were accompanied by no regular centurians of Roma's. And they carried no banners identifying the legion to which they were attached. No, this was an independent band, sent by an enemy authority that Roma did not sanction. That made them particularly dangerous, and he determined to inform the Emperor in Nova Roma once he was clear of the area altogether. While he was still there, however, the best he could do was take guards from the garrison in Aelia Capitolena if he felt that was the only way he could manage while in the city.

It took Hyacinthus little time to find what was needed, and he came with two horses, while riding one of them. Behind him, a donkey held a rider, a small boy of about twelve years of age.

"Will these two do, sire?" he asked, holding out the reins to Rutilius of the second horse.

The stableman took the money you gave me for the two we need as far as the city, and for a small price is sending a boy along with us to return our mounts if we do not choose to buy them."

Rutilius looked led the mare to some steps, and from them mounted her. "No, I don't think they will do to buy them--but they will be good enough to get us to the city at least, and then the boy can take them back." He was glad, though, of the boy's presence with them, as it increased their party's size, and he would serve to be a witness of whatever happened to them, if things did not go well.

As they started out of the town, he called to the boy in Latin and got no response. He tried Greek, which was much more common in the area. This time he got a reaction to: "What is your name?" The boy looked surprised, but he stammered, "Gamiliah." "And your father's?" "Izak ben-Nahan."

Rutilius pressed him no further, as he knew the boy naturally feared to answer to a rich pagan and a foreigner too.

But as they left the town behind, he did have one instruction for Gamilial.

"You, keep a sharp eye out for robbers--you should know where they like to hide and then leap out on travelers like us. We depend on you to get us safely to the city!"

When he said that, he watched the boy's expression, and thought he could tell the boy knew well what he was talking about, as he suddenly tensed and started looking about more.

Not that there were many people on the road at that hour or laboring in the fields or few, scattered bits of vineyards or comleting various tasks in farmyards. Most of the travellers had either camped hard by Bethlehem, or lodged in the town, or had already reached Aelia Capitolena. They were latecomers, but still Rutilius was sure they could make it there before nightfall and the closure of the gates--that is, if nothing untoward happened.

Presently, Rutilius became aware of a large body of travelers gaining on them from the rear. He hesitated. Should he stop and allow them to pass them. If so, they would meet on the open but otherwise vacant road. Was that wise?

But they were moving faster, and he did not think the poor mare and the older horse that Hyacinthus rode would bear trotting the rest of the way to Aelia Capitolena.

What to do? He looked back, and saw the travellers were about twenty in number, and were on camels, which gave them speed that surpassed any he could muster.

Should he strike off across the countryside, and leave the road? But if these men were pursuing him, they could just as easily catch him in the rough country as on the well-paved Roman road.

He spoke to Hyacinthus. "What do you make of them?"

Hyacinthus had been aware of them too, and yet he could not decide. "I am praying, sire, for your protection."

"Praying for my protection!" thought Rutilius. "That is, I suppose, all a a monk and a secretary without sword can do for us!"

Rutilius glanced at Gamaliah, and saw he indeed very afraid and was wanting to hurry his donkey forward faster by jabbing it hard with his heels.

For a Roman, though, despite the seeming likelihood of imminent death, there was no question that he ought first to show no fear. So he continued riding as he had, as if nothing averse was happening.

They were soon overtaken. The leading camels passed them, however, on either side of the road, while the ones behind slowed and kept pace behind at the rear. In this way Rutilius found they were effectively surrounded, yet there was no sign they were trying to stop him.

It was the strangest thing he had ever seen, but he kept going, while gripping his sword with one hand, ready to defend himself if put to it.

In this way they continued, and before long Rutilius glimpsed towers and then walls of a city uphead--Aeilia Capitolena! And still the strangers who had joined him had made no hostile move! What could they be intending?

Just then the lead camels dropped back, and he proceeded forward and when he looked back every single one of the camels and their riders had vanished. Astounded, he drew up, and peered all around. It was dusk, hard by nightfall, when the shadowy landscape can play tricks, he knew, on the eyes, but here there was barrenness, hardly a stunted tree or thornbush broke the stony ground all around.

Where could they have gone so quickly and hidden themselves? It was if they had all fallen into a pit and the ground had closed over them!

He struck his mount with his hand and urged her forward. Whatever explanation could be had, it was not handy at the moment, so he pressed on toward the city in the remaining feeble light.

They passed through the gates just in time as the gatemen were engaged in drawing the doors close for the night, allowing some sheep and shepherds to exit just as Rutilius, Hyacinthus, and the stableboy entered.